Through the Portrait Hole
by leannelliott
Summary: A collection of Harry/Ginny one-shots from HBP 24 to Dumbledore's funeral. Fluff. Follows canon.
1. From Inside the Portrait Hole

#1: HBP 24 ending from Ginny's POV.

**Twenty-eight days before.**

Ginny glanced at the portrait hole expectantly as it swung open, but it was a third-year boy who bounded in. She swiveled her eyes back to Hermione and took a gulp of pumpkin juice.

"Expecting someone?" Hermione inquired knowingly, raising her eyebrows.

"Not at all," Ginny replied sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

Someone thumped Ginny on the back. "Awesome catch today, Weasley," a familiar fourth-year girl complimented.

"Hey, thanks," Ginny said, grinning.

"Harry's been in detention for long enough," Hermione sighed. "Snape must be being a huge git right now."

"Did you just call someone a _git, _Hermione? A teacher, no less?" Ginny exclaimed in mock horror.

"Never mind that. Harry must be dying to know the outcome of the match. He'll be pleasantly surprised, don't you think?"

Ginny nodded her assent. The way Hermione was going on about things, it was as if she expected Ginny to break down and confess her love for Harry right there.

"Weasley is our _queen,_" a seventh-year boy whistled, leaping away from his group of friends to swing by where Ginny was leaning against a couch.

Ginny responded, "Thanks," for about the fiftieth time that day.

He winked at her. Ginny turned around to face Hermione, pretending to ignore him. Hermione failed at suppressing a smug smile.

Ginny still _liked, _Harry, of course, and she still harboured hopes, hopes that would probably never go away, to be honest, not when she twenty-five and walking down the aisle. As of lately her hopes had come bubbling to the surface more than usual, like when Harry always ended walking back up to the school with her after Quidditch practice, or somehow often ended up sitting next to her in the Great Hall or in the common room. Despite his prior satisfaction of hanging out solely with Ron and Hermione, Harry _did _seem eager to be around her, too. He always popped up at odd moments, like whenever she was late to breakfast or in the hallways between classes, but usually with Ron at his side too.

Hermione seemed to be dropping hints, too, like, "Look, Harry finally came back from dinner," and even, "You should have seen Harry's face when he heard about you and Dean." When Ginny inquired about Harry's reaction, Hermione had smiled archly and simply stated that he seemed "interested." But a lot of people had been surprised and interested to know the details when she and Dean had broken up - it was big gossip; they had dated nearly a year, after all. Ginny even suspected that Hermione had good reason to attain suspicions about a possibility of a relationship - from Harry's side. Ginny certainly didn't _doubt _that it was possible that Harry could finally like her too, but she didn't allow herself to further discern the possibility, not wanting to face yet another disappointment. She had finally stopped _embarrassing _herself in his presence, honestly. Seeing Harry laugh at her jokes and enjoy her company was plenty.

Ginny thought about Harry's face when he caught her kissing Dean so many months ago - bewildered, frantic, eyes wide under his round glasses, face crimson, even angry. But Harry was like her brother, too. They had hung out at the Burrow all summer, after all, playing Quidditch in the orchard every afternoon, seeing each other with messy hair and pajamas still on before breakfast. He hadn't flipped out like Ron because he must have been shocked and disturbed to see her in such an intimate moment and had been unsure whether to take Ron's side or not. Yes, that was all.

_Merlin's beard, _Ginny thought, nearly pinching herself in frustration. _Just be his friend. That's what he wants, and it's better than nothing. At least you can talk in front of him._

Colin Creevey ran up to Ginny for the umpteenth time since the end of the game, his camera swinging around his neck, this time, with Dennis tagging at his side. Ginny tried to suppress a groan.

"Ginny, you were wicked out there today!" Dennis yelled.

"Yeah, she was awesome! Did you see her _dive _for that Snitch? Chang didn't stand a chance!" Colin praised, uncapping the lens of his camera. "I have some pictures from the match! Want to see?"

"I'm okay, actually-"

"You can see them in a minute! Right now Dennis wants a picture with you, Ginny! Would you mind?"

"Well," Ginny answered, desperate to think of an excuse but not wanting to be rude. "Yeah, I guess."

"Oh - Ginny!" Hermione shrieked. Ginny swirled around. Hermione was gesturing to the portrait hole, where Ron had just bounded in front of, clutching the Quidditch Cup and waving it wildly.

"We won! Four hundred and fifty to a hundred and twenty! We won!"

She didn't need to think twice; the opportunity had presented itself to escape the Creeveys' pestilence. _You won it, _Ginny thought. _He'll be thrilled. Maybe even proud. _And before she had resolved on what to do, her legs were carrying her forward at a dead sprint. Relieved that Harry had finally made it out of detention alive and intact, and that his missing the game had been of no real consequence, she intended to launch herself into his arms with the most enthusiastic embrace she could muster.

But as she drew nearer, Harry's gaze locked with hers and there was no mistaking the way his green eyes lit instantly. Intending to yell something along the lines of, "Harry, we won it! I can't believe it!" she threw her arms around his shoulders, but she never got a chance to yell anything. Harry's face pressed down upon hers and his lips smothered her half-opened mouth.

Ginny nearly withdrew in shock, but she forced herself to stay, and instinctively returned the kiss. She squeezed her eyes shut, resolving not to open them and face the disappointment of waking up.

But after a sunlit eternity, after enough time for Ginny to convince herself that this was real, they drew apart. Ginny's eyes flew to his, but the bright green was focused on scouring the room behind her. Only then did Ginny realize the dead silence that had overcome the room. Almost immediately afterwards, a wolf-whistle broke the tension, and she snuck at glance back at the fifty or so Gryffindors who were collectively standing, looking Stupefied, sporting nervous grins while half-hearted giggles reverberated throughout the room. Harry's eyes finally darted back to hers, and he gestured outside, snatched her hand and pulled her through the portrait hole.

**Author's note: **I got the idea the twenty-eight days before thing from John Green's _Looking for Alaska. _

More one-shots to come in future chapters.


	2. Chapter 2

#2: After HBP 24. That chapter.

**Still 28 days before.**

"_The creature in his chest roaring in triumph, he grinned down at Ginny and gestured wordlessly out of the portrait hole. A long walk in the grounds seemed indicated, during which - if they had time - they might discuss the match." _

Harry ducked through the portrait hole and straightened up on the other side, glancing at Ginny, who slipped through, her loose hair swinging over her shoulder. The portrait slammed shut, and the Fat Lady eyed them suspiciously.

"Had enough of the festivities, have you?" she inquired.

"Oh, yes. Quite enough," Harry replied nonchalantly, continuing down the corridor, Ginny at his side. Without thinking a second time that day, he clasped his hand around Ginny's. An audible gasp emanated from the portrait behind them, and Harry figured the entire school would now know by suppertime with the Fat Lady's reputation as a gossip, but he did not look back. He chanced a glance at Ginny, who had a smirk playing on her lips.

They rounded the corner, and suddenly Harry felt very stupid. His Gryffindor courage seemed to have left him. Any fears of Ginny's anger or resentment had been assuaged by her smirk, but Harry did not have a clue where to begin.

She was peering up at him, still smirking, evidently amused by his internal struggle.

Nothing else came to him. "So - how was the match?"  
>"Really, Harry. As if the match was the most exciting thing that happened in the past few hours," she laughed, rolling her eyes.<p>

"Right," Harry said, feeling all the more stupid. It was different, though, then the time he had desperately cast around for something to talk about with Cho. He felt like their relationship was in no grave danger if they walked in silence.

As their feet treaded the familiar path to the entrance hall, Harry automatically pushed aside the tapestry to reveal the steep narrow shortcut staircase. At the bottom, Harry was forcefully reminded of the time he and Ron had run into Ginny and Dean here.

Ginny seemed to be thinking similar thoughts, for she whipped around on the spot, pulled Harry's face to hers, and pressed her lips upon his.

Minutes later, they pushed open the tall oak doors of the entrance hall and stepped out into the bright sunlight, and the balmy May warmth enveloped their bodies. Harry could feel the sweat of Ginny's hand slippery against his own.

"Oh, I forgot to ask. How was detention?" Ginny asked.

Harry sighed. "Did you really have to remind me? I was just feeling better."

"Sorry," Ginny said, grinning.

"Well, it was torture. Snape made me sort old punishment files, mostly of my dad and Sirius. I thought I'd never get out of there."

"Neither did I. That sounds better than sorting flobberworms, though."

"I guess. It was still pretty miserable."

Ginny leaned forward and planted a kiss on Harry's cheek. "Maybe that will make you feel better."

She has no idea, Harry thought. Or maybe she does.

They both wanted to mention it, it was playing on the tips of both their tongues, but teasingly, they both casually avoided the subject as they meandered, hand-in-hand, down the sloping lawns to the lake and finally settled in the shade of the beech tree.

At one point, Ginny reached up to his hair, and Harry nearly reproached her to tell her that any attempts to flatten it were useless, but then he realized she was messing it up further. Harry was reminded ever so forcefully of his father, who had messed up his own hair in the shade of this very beech tree to impress another red-haired girl. Harry longed to tell her, but he had sworn to Snape that that memory would be kept secret.

Ginny stretched out and laid her head in his lap, gazing up at Harry. He absently traced his fingers through her hair.

"Way to go, Harry," she finally ventured. "I wouldn't expect anything less in terms of bravery of the one who fought You-Know-Who."

Harry raised his eyebrows and ruffled her hair playfully. "Did you know?"

Ginny rolled her eyes, deciding Harry didn't need to know about her refusal to dare to hope. "I _guessed, _but I wasn't sure. Should've known, though. Could have speeded things up a bit. I mean, you were a bit obvious at times."

"Was I?"

"Oh, yeah." It all made perfect sense to her, now, Harry always pairing up Katie and Demelza for drills at practice so he would have a chance to work with Ginny, or hia always appearing at supper right after she arrived. She could now revel in the fact that they had been in fact intentional manipulations, not lucky coincidences.

Harry snorted. "I don't think you were necessarily so sure. Anyway, I was only afraid of what Ron's reaction would be."

"Scared of someone who once got jinxed by Fred and George so that the back of his pants were see-through on the day he was wearing orange Chudley Cannon boxers?"

"You could say that."

Ginny sat up. "Harry," she stated defiantly, "I don't _care _what Ron thinks. He's going to have to deal." Grasping Harry's shoulders, she smothered his face with her mouth, drawing him into a passionate kiss. Harry's eyes snapped shut and his lips lingered on hers for as long as he could stand not to draw breath.

He kept his lips on her skin, moving down the side of her freckled cheek to the smooth curve of her neck. She leaned her head onto his shoulder, and Harry savored the salty taste of her skin and the gentle feel of her arms wrapped around his back.

"Are you going to tell your mum?" Harry suddenly asked.

"Tell my mum what?"

"About - us. Oh, I don't think I ever asked you properly. Will you be my girlfriend, Ginny?"

Ginny giggled. "Don't worry, it was implied. And I don't know - about telling my mum, that is. I bet she'll have found out by tomorrow even if I don't say a thing. Which reminds me, I need to have a chat with Ron."

Ginny turned around so she was sitting in his lap, and Harry buried his face in her ginger hair, inhaling deeply. He was reminded of flowers, but then attributed that to the summer wildflowers poking up all over the lawn.

"What about?"

"Oh, you're welcome to hear. Just logistics. Like now he shouldn't take the shortcut anymore to breakfast. The staircase behind the tapestry is off-limits."

Chuckling, Harry met her lips again.

"You never told me about the match."

Ginny complied and gave him a play-by-play, but the match did not seem so significant anymore. He watched her talk more than he listened, appreciating when the corners of her mouth twisted up in a teasing smile and her eyes flashed with excitement. He no longer had to sneak glances at her from across the Gryffindor common room while she talked, or try to casually leave the Quidditch pitch at the same time as her. Her hair was his to play with, her eyes were his to stare into, her lips were his to kiss. Finally.

It was the end of May, and the days were already pretty lengthy, but they did not retreat back up the sloping lawn until the sky was streaked with the pinks of dust.

The common room party was finally dying down, and Harry and Ginny gladly took plates of the leftover food. They pretended to ignore how the atmosphere became immediately subdued upon their entrance, and then charged with whispers and giggles. Ginny curled up beside Harry on an empty sofa, and promptly burst out laughing as all the eyes of an entire group fourth years clustered on the opposite sofa simutaneously flitted towards them for the briefest of moments.

"_There _you are," a cross voice finally said. Ron threw himself down beside Harry, a nervous-looking Hermione next to him. Dread crept into Harry's stomach.

Ginny immediately leaned across Harry and demanded, "You do _not _have a problem with this."

"I'll admit this is bloody weird, but I'll allow it as long as there is no snogging in front of me. I'd prefer no snogging in public altogether, nor in private either-"

"So what did Lavender threaten you with?" Ginny mused.

Ron's face turned tomato-red. "Shut it."

Harry could not help but anxiously make his own eye contact with Ron, who acknowledged him with a grin, prompting the looming dread in Harry's stomach to dissipate and give way to a sort of contentment he had never felt before, nor thought possible anytime soon.

**Author's note: **Reading this chapter ALWAYS makes me want to write this scene. Don't know if I'm satisfied, hope I've done it justice. Fluff.

Future one-shots will be shorter.


End file.
